#temp cover van
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Temporary Van Insurance for Business Purposes: Flexibility and Cost-Effectiveness ?
Temporary van insurance offers businesses the flexibility and cost-effectiveness they need to manage their fleet efficiently. Whether you require coverage for a single day or up to a month, temporary van insurance provides the protection you need without the long-term commitment. Here’s why it’s becoming increasingly popular among businesses in the UK.
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In conclusion, temporary van insurance offers businesses the flexibility, cost-effectiveness, and convenience they need to effectively manage their operations. With customizable coverage options and quick arrangement processes, it’s a practical solution for businesses seeking insurance for short-term or temporary situations in the UK.
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Link to Part Two
Part One
Eddie stares down at the plastic doodad. It proudly declares the word ‘pregnant’ on the little screen, cheerily oblivious to the fact that it's just ruined Eddie’s whole fucking life. It’s a word as well, the actual fucking word, ‘pregnant’ shown oh so confidently on the little screen. Eddie’s done a test before, one time when he had a scare as a teenager, that had been the sort that showed one line or two.
One lines for not, two for...are. Two would have looked like prison bars, which would have been ironic given being saddled with a pup is probably pretty equivalent to 25 to life.
Anyway. Eddie shakes it. Looks again. Throws the fucking thing in the bin.
Well fuck.
Eddie contemplates, very very briefly, getting rid of it. His mind and body recoil from that thought the same way it would from, like, rotted tuna. Or someone else's puke. Or like...salad.
Eddie’s Omega’s got a lot of needs and no Alpha willing to fill them. Eddie gets by, fobbing his Omega off with with a couple of short term friends with benefits arrangements and the odd one night stand. Mostly his Omega can’t tell the difference between having an Alpha and having any Alpha, so he makes do. It scratches the itch.
Unfortunately, that means this pup could have been fathered by any one of three dudes, and Eddie doesn’t have a fucking clue which of them it would be. Eddie would really rather not it be Alpha A, Alpha B is a piece of work with a big dick, and what's behind door number three would be potentially catastrophic.
Anyway. Eddie makes a decision at two am in his apartment bathroom, and it starts with two text messages, an email, and a phone call.
“Thanks for doing this so on the spur man,” Eddie tells his landlord as he hands over the keys. Ex landlord. It was only a room in a shared place. Had to share the bathroom on this floor with two other dudes, but, meh. It had been perfect for what Eddie needed, and more importantly, within Eddie’s budget.
His whole life is sitting in the back of his van, barely filling a third of the back. Which is ideal really, made clearing out quick and easy and Eddie’s uncertain about weather or not he should be doing any heavy lifting right now.
He makes three stop offs before he leaves for good, shifting the very last of his product at discount prices. He mournfully throws in his last two boxes of cigs with the last deal; going cold turkey is going to be the opposite of fun, but Eddie’s in it to win it, and he’s going to try his best as of right now.
Wayne already has the door open when Eddie hops out of his van, beer in hand, eyebrow raised, “heya old man.”
When Wayne sees Eddie dragging bags out, he lifts the brim of his cap, puts it back again, and heads inside. Eddie sees him move a couple of things out of Eddie’s old room, and although it’s empty and the bed is stripped to nothing, it’s untouched, “how long you back for?” Wayne asks him, offering a beer.
Eddie looks at the offered bottle, dripping condensation, and very pointedly doesn’t take it “so, about that.”
There’s a long drawn out moment, and Eddie’s sees the realization dawn, “oh Ed.”
“You like kids!”
Wayne sighs, pulls Eddie into a hug, “I just hope they sleep better’n you did. Don’t think I can go through that again.”
Eddie snorts a laugh into Wayne’s shoulder, all relieved. He hadn't doubted for a second that Wayne would back his play, Wayne's always been unshakably team Eddie, but to hear it said in no uncertain terms is still a huge weight lifted.
Eddie’s got a slightest curve of a bump, small enough that it’s not nearly noticeable yet, especially with Eddie’s usual wardrobe. To go along with his bump, he’s got a scan booked at the Omega Health place, an insatiable craving for garlic mushrooms, and a job.
An actual honest job. Alright, a temp job, because he’s pregnant and no one in their right mind is going to hire a pregnant Omega for a full time permanent gig. So he is, conveniently enough, covering maternity leave for a beta girl at the record store. But that doesn’t matter right now, the moons aligned, and Eddie jumped at the opportunity. He’s going to have a secure pay check for the next seven or so months, and right this second, that’s what counts.
He can’t drink. He can’t smoke. He can’t do drugs and he’s most certainly not going to party. Eddie does the next best thing he can think of; he goes to the library. This is his reward now, his fun, his safe space; he’s going to reward himself with a good book. A good free book.
Turns out registering himself for a library card is a ten minute thing, and then he’s done, bit of plastic in hand, he wonders the shelves looking for the fantasy section. He rounds the corner into the main room only to find a dude reading and signing along to a bunch of little kids. He has the book propped up on a thing to keep his hands free and the pages open so the kids can see.
He’s encouraging them to sign along with a bunch of the words.
He has good hair...like, really good hair. There’s something familiar about the guy that Eddie can't place...until he does.
Holy fucking shit. That’s King Steve.
And he’s in a library...wearing fucking gold rimmed spectacles and a sweater vest.
And he’s hot. He’s still hot. He laughs at something and leans forward to help a toddler with the placement of her chubby little fingers and Eddie’s ovaries fucking explode.
He walks away. For self preservation he walks away. He forgets what he just saw because there was no way it was real. He’s been going through a dry spell, hasn’t got laid since he moved back to Hawkins and now he’s seeing mirages of his high school crush, that’s all.
That’s all it can be.
Until Eddie goes to the fancy scanner machine to check out his little pile of four paperback fantasy books and a deep Alpha voice is asking if he needs anything and he’s, like, right there. And he smells of library and Alpha and whatever nice thing he washes his fucking sweater vests in.
Jesus.
“No,” Eddie squeaks, “I’m okay.”
“Eddie?” Steve frowns at him, tilting his read and looking over the top of his glasses in a way that should be fucking criminal, “Eddie Munson right? I thought you moved away?”
“I have. Did. I mean, I did do that. Previously. Back now. Clearly.” Shut up shut up shut up and Steve can probably smell his embarrassment because he’s standing closely enough to clearly scent Eddie and Steve’s senses must be absolutely pinpoint because his eyes drop to Eddie’s stomach, then spring up to his neck. He frowns, like, the tiniest bit.
Eddie’s pregnant, and unmated, and Steve’s clocked that in about four seconds flat which, great. Humiliation complete.
But Steve’s face clears as quick as it had clouded, the whole thing passing so fast Eddie’s now not even sure he saw it, “so it’d been cool to catch up, you wanna wait a minute, I’m just about to have lunch?”
“Errr…I mean. I wouldn't want to impose or anything-”
“Steve!” And holy shit, if Steve is the ghost of Christmas past or some shit, the second ghost just rocked up in the form of Robin fucking Buckley of all people. Eddie doesn't even understand why they’re even friends, Steve was a topnotch jock and a total fucking dickwad, and Buckley was a band nerd.
This makes less sense than Steve’s sweater vest.
“Yeah, come on Eddie, lets go sit outside,” Eddie gets tugged along in their wake, somehow, and ends up sitting on a bench outside in the sun.
Robin had a bag of take out in her hand which she gives to Steve, and he takes out a carton of something that instantly makes Eddie’s mouth water, Eddie looks back up in time to catch Steve widening his eyes at Robin, tilting his head off to the side sharply in silent gesture for her to fuck off over there. She signs something, real quick. Steve nods.
Eddie doesn’t know a single lick of sign language, but he's pretty sure that even if he did, what happened was so fast he would have missed it anyway, “so, Eddie, great to see you, but I, shit, pretty sure I’ve left the...stove on.”
Eddie frowns at the take out and back to Robin but before he can point out what a steaming pile of bullshit that is, she’s already power walking off and shouting, “byyyyeeeeeeeeeeeee.”
“I, ah, got garlic mushrooms and broccoli and some stirfry-”
It’s too late for Eddie. He’s done. Stick a fork in him. He has no idea what’s happening here but he zones in on the garlic mushroom part of that like a heat seeking missile. A secondary part of his brain is screaming loudly that the Alpha has provided, the Alpha wants to share his food with Eddie. Alpha Alpha Alpha.
Eddie takes the container and the bamboo spork thing Steve hands him, “sorry, I never get chopsticks, no fucking clue how to use them.”
“I can show you,” Eddie says, without thinking it through or registering the implication or stopping to swallow, which means he just spoke with his mouth full of food.
“I’d like that,” Steve tells him, “when can I take you out for dinner?”
Which, Eddie’s brain does stall out there. Because. Well. Lots of things. But he was pretty certain Steve had clocked his specific circumstances earlier, but now he’s not so sure, “I’m pupped,” his mouth supplies without his permission, so he shoves a whole thing of broccoli in there to try and stop it happening again.
Steve hums, eating his beef thing very neatly, “no bite though,” he points out, and Eddie makes an agreeable noise, “maybe we can fix that,” Eddie nearly chokes.
#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie#omega eddie because he's so pretty#mpreg#alpha steve harrington
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Actually I’m still bitter about the finale - here’s an AU
I’ve lovingly decided to call this “Because the Butterflies Hate You” AU (Because Butterfly Effect is a spiteful bitch as Gabriel will soon learn).
So Gabemoth does as leaked and tries making his wish to “undo his past mistakes” via taking on Emilie’s coma status and giving his life for hers.
Un(Fortunately) for him, my version of Gimme is petty AF and the dictionary definition of the Jerkass Genie trope+monkey’s paw, so it grants his wish by taking him literally and undoing all his choices that lead him here to this moment - including his meeting Emilie. Should have been a bit more specific on that part Gabbie-boy!
So instead of croaking, Gabriel wakes up in his old family flat from back when he was still Gabbie Grassette. A quick search of his things and his old diary reveals that in this new reality, Gabbie’s attempt to strike out on his own fell flat, as never meeting Emilie meant he never met her parents or Audrey and Andre to help get his fashion career off the ground and create his “Gabriel Agreste” persona to escape his past. After too many failures in attempting to start up his own brand, he eventually (and reluctantly) returned home and took over the family frystand as was originally ordained for him.
Needless to say, Gabe’s not happy about this (nor the fact that he’s still alive, because that means Gimme didn’t use him as the wish’s price as planned), especially since despite all his googling, he can’t find anything about Emilie in the new reality (or Nathalie and Adrien).
So he gives temp control to one of his family employee’s and asks Harry (Who’s comedy career sadly failed to take off) to drive him to Paris under the guise of “Fry research” to see if he can gather clues there (and maybe see how much this world differs from the old one)
When he arrives, he sees the entire city has changed. Certain shops aren’t where they’re supposed to be or replaced with unfamiliar businesses, different people have taken different roles and jobs, and there’s no one who recognizes him. Even Andre, Audrey, and Tomoe are no longer the same people they were in the original universe either...
But even with all that, Gabriel still can’t find any sign of Emilie. Even researching her family turns up no clues for him (though that blasted Amelie seems to be doing well though). He had originally assumed she somehow still managed to break away from her parents, but none of that explains why he can’t find anything about her. It’s like she vanished into thin air. The only real clue he has is that she clearly didn’t find any success as an actress in this universe since he can’t find her filmography.
The same goes for Nathalie - though she seemed to have had a very detailed and lucrative career as an archeologist and explorer a few years back before she all but disappeared from the public eye some odd months ago. Conspiracy theorists point the finger at the mysterious research benefactor from her last expedition, but so far her case has many people stumped.
Which just leaves Adrien - and while his son seems to no longer have articles or magazine covers to track him with in this universe, Gabriel at least hopes one thing hasn’t changed in the universe.
“...Gabbie?” “Yes Harry?” “This isn’t about fry research is it?” “What makes you say that?” “*Gestures to the fact that they’re two grown men hanging outside a middleschool in a van*” “...” “...” “...I promise this makes sense.” “Do you now?”
Luckily for Gabriel, he was actually correct on that point - the Adrien of the new universe still attends Francois Dupont, and he spots him exiting during the lunch bell with some friends (Though that Dupain-Cheng girl isn’t with him - Strange...?). He still looks the same as the old universe, the perfect image of him and his beloved’s dream child
...Except, isn’t his hair a little darker? And the shade of green for his eyes is way off - nothing like the subtle emerald hues of his wife? Also, is that a cane? And why is he wearing that trashy bargain bin outfit for? Just what did that blasted Gimme change to cause his son to become so different!?
Before he can question it more though - a Sentimonster attacks. Yep, still a thing in this universe. Gabriel gets separated from Harry in the chaos but remains calm. After all, if there’s still an active Peacock user (which means it got fixed in this world as well), then that must mean the butterfly must be active too, which also mean that blasted Ladybug and Chat Noir are still around. They should be able to help him.
And Chat (or at least a new one it appears) does show up alongside three other heroes...but there’s no Ladybug among their numbers. An akuma never shows to help the sentimonster either. They take down the creature and rescue civilians caught up in the attack, but the damage done around the school remains as the children are forced to leave early, Adrien included.
Naturally, the lack of a Ladybug wielder despite the Peacock (and what happened to the Butterfly Miraculous? Is it not active? Was it never found?) still being in play is concerning, but Gabriel’s more interested in following his son (who technically isn’t really his son anymore but eh - semantics), to make sure he gets home okay - aaaaaand maybe learn more about his new life in the post-wish verse and possibly find a clue about Emilie. After all, if their son still exists, that must mean she still used Dusuu’s powers to create him which also means his wish didn’t change anything
Of course, it’s just then that Gabriel gets ambushed and dragged away into a random alley. When he finally regains his wits he learns his attacker is...
Marinette (wielding the Pig Miraculous no less), who as it turns out, still remembers the old timeline too - and is very pissed at Gabriel for that backstab venom (oh, and also for throwing the fabric of the cosmos out of whack because he thought he knew better than her, his wife, and the centuries old cosmic demigod).
Lucky for him though, she’s prioritizing undoing his universe-sized goof up over payback (for now), so now the two have to work together to find the Ladybug, get the Cat’s new owner to help them, and undo Gabriel’s wish to turn things back to normal. Hurray...
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Memory's of Light - The Mirror's
|| Memory's of ligth (cover) || The mirror's || The bubble || The Cards || The Hug || The Walk || The Pancakes || The Concert || The Ramen || The labyrinth ||
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It was our first meet alone, a really nice day for visit a Game Dev exposition and get mesmerized by the mirror room it was on there… I will never forget that…
this time i worked with a little help of unreal engine for work on the mirror's
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Memories de llum - Els miralls
Portava molt temps volen torna a quedra amb tu desde la primera vegada que ens vam veura amb el zaspian i la jeni, per tenia molta vergonya o por de demartu... pero finalmente al cap duns menos o vaigs cuseguir demanartu aunque tu amb vas dunar la empetan que nesesitava. Tu ja sabias que jo volia quedar per que to habian chibat pero et vas descuidar, pero encara aixi , era millor que fosi aixi per el meu propi be. Aixi dons recordu que estavem jugan, crec que estavem fen una carrera de grifos a domini de instan i jo et vaigs di que volia demanarte una cosa pero amb donava molta cosa dirtu, i tu amb vas dir " respira profun i digau rapit"... o vaigs prosesar mentalment les teves paraules, vaigs respira i to vaigs dir aunque amb tremolava la veu i finalment o vaigs dir, i tu et vas alegra de que u fesi per mi mateixa...
Jo sempre e sigut algu que li agrada organizar les cosas i on anar, i portava temps amb el ull ficat en una exposision que volia anar, aixi que te la vaigs sugeri...la exposisio de sengona pantalla crec que es deia, ja que es tractava del mon del game dev i als dos ens interesava per que estavem migs ficats en el tema i jo habia estudia d'aixo
Finalment el dia va arriva... era un matir de julio, i jo i tenia moltes ganes i por a la vegada, por de que et sentisis fursat a quedar amb mi o serte una carrega... sensasions que habia tenit en el pasat i que no volia que pases amb tu tambe...
Vaigs arribar habas dora on habiam acordat, recordu mentres tesperava veura un pallo vaixan amb monopati amb un lloro que paralaba i amb va fer molta grasia.. i finalment tu vas aparexia... Jo tinc sempre la mania de mira sempre capa habaix cuan quedo per que amb fa por esta mira si ve la persona i creuar mirades, sempre ma dunat serta cosa, aixo mai u as segut pero si estas llexin aixo.. ara o sabras ..
Cuant finalment tu et vas apropa a mir jo et vaigs dir hola i et vaigis oferir el puny, una cosa que sempre e tingut la custum de fer per saludar a la gent, i amb vas pregunta que feia, i et vaigs di aixo , i amb vas donar el puny i hobrime la ma despre, i sense preguntarme ni res amb vas abrasar, jo mai estat acustumada amb que mabrasein, ningu acustumava a fero.. era algo extrany per mi... pero allo que vas fer tu, el fet de que tu mabrasesi sense preguntar ni ress amb va reconfurtar, i amb van allivera les pors que tenia al prinsipi de si et senties obligat a quedar o de si era una carrega.. amb va fe felis allo per mi de serte manera... i despres dallo vam ana capa dintre del museu a veura la exposisio , mentres parlaven de les nostres coses.
Jo mai habia estat alla , pero mentres entravem amb vas explicar que tu vas fer un concert del te grup d'orquesta alla en la part del jardi i jo et vaigs dir.. algun dia magradaria veurat tocar, i tu cuan tingui un altre consert tinvitare
Vam finalment entra a la sala de la exposisio, el prisipi era apartat de so , animacio, etc que recordu al final de la exposisio vam retorna lla i vaigs veura que estva en uns dels apartats el nom de un dels meus atics profes de so, va se molt rasios allo per que vam mirar si el resta de gent que habia , era profe meu, pero nomes era aquell
Despres vam pasa a un pasadis de llums de colors transitoris, anavam cambian de colors tota la estona amb un mirrall i era molt guay aquell cami amb es colors neon blau, magenta , blanc i verda, entre algun mes que es combinava
I ensegudia vam entra al prinsipi de les sales de miralls... En la primera sala es reflectava esense de jocs , alguns conegust uns altres no tants, pero era molt guay veura tot refletat per tot arreu, i la segona part era mes encara un bucle de refletas entre els mirall expectaculars que tu fins i tot vas fer unes cuantes fotos all, era tot super mesmeritzant i mencantava
La seguent sala era com un pasadis a les foscas fen zigzag, amb petitas tauletas on ni habia jocs d'empresas indis, i alla tu vas agafar notes dels noms de les empresas per tira CVs i jo et vaigs demanar que mo pasesis tambe.
La ultima sala ni habia unes taules per poder jugar uns parell de jocs coperatius per dos persones. Ens vam sentar una estona per jugari els dos, va se dirvertit aunque jo era molt patata. SI no recordu malament era un joc de un fastama o una cosa aixi, pero no use, pero recordu divertimer amb la tutaria amb tu
Cuan vam habandona la sala final, amb vas dir que volias fer una fotu al pasadis amb llums, aixi dons vam retorna al prinsipi per fer unes fotus alla... pero no me esperava que fosi amb mi... i sisnserament amb va impactar que vulguesis ferte unes fotus amb mi en aquell pasadis de llums que a mi magradaba molt... i si las fotus van quedar molt boniques i una de les poques que tic amb tu , la tinc molt atesurara, per que es la meva favorita i la mes maca...
Finalment vam abandor el lloc i vam desidir anar al arc del trionf a pota, pero habans vas voler fer una parada al starbucks i alla et vas agafar un te chai un espesi de espiral que no recordu ve que era, pero el te mel vas deixa provar i era molt bo i vaigs provar de dirte els ingredients de cami
So desde la diagonal fins a l'arc del triof camina fen ziggza per els carrers interst, mentres parlavem de molts coses fins que vam arriba allar
Amb vas esenyar la tenda de jocs de taula que tu frecuentavas, una d'elles, i amb vas ensneyar alguns jocs, i et vaigs dir que algun dia podriam jugar algun joc dels que amb deias o un scaperoom, i tuvas dir que si, cuan vulguesi podriam jugari
despres vam entra a veura les tendes de figures, i a la norman a veure mangas de tot tipus
Halla dintre vam combersa una mica d'amistats i tal.. i tu amb vas dir de serte manera que per tu era una amiga propera i que per mi tmb lo era.. pero ...per mi ets mes que una persona prupera, per mi tu et vas turna en una persona molt importat a la meva vida... de la cual no volia perda... alla en vagis donar conta que tan devo haguesin quedat molt abans, i que aquell matir samb feia molt curt... perque o estava pasant molt be...
vams sorti de la norman i ens vam sentar una estona per descansar habans de anar a la estasio de metro de plasa , i halla vam esta cherrant una estoneta llarga i rien , i vellen videos.. recordu que amb vas ensenyar un de tu tocan en un consert, i amb sorprenia i men semblava molt guay
despres de descansar , dons de cami a plasa, cherrant de les nostres coses, i finalment va arribar el adeu... que en el fons tenia por de que no turnesim a quedar mai mes, per sort no va ser aixi...
i ens vam despedir al igual que ens vam saludar, amb una abrasada i un "nem parlan.. ens veiem"
per mi aquell dia va ser mol dirvert i guay, i vaigs anarma molt contenta a casa... mai avia sentit aixi de be quedan amb algu... i sentir que era una carga... i en el fons marepetia molt de no haberi quedat abans...per culpa de les meves pors, pero era felis d'aquella primera vegada... aixi que d'aque put vaigs mira almenys quedar amb tu un cop al mes... pero maguesi agradat poderi quedar molt mes que un cop al mes...
Grasies per haber pasat aquell dia amb mi i tots els que vam quedar durant aquet temps... Tan devo es repetisi un altre cop...
notes: se que tinc una fcorma diferent de viure les coses... i aquestes coses simples amb poden marcar de serte manera, ja que soc molt sensiple... ja u saps...
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🌸, 💐 and ❄️ for the Morvants please! ❤️
Happily! Thanks, babe <3 these got long, so they're going under a cut lmao
🌸- What's this oc's favorite and least favorite color?
for all of them, their actual favorite is the respective color of their necro-magic -- Maxi's aortic red, Hex's neon purple, Rora's phtalo green. no one's ever been entirely sure whether their personalities cause their specific colors to develop (like, this was already their favorite color, so that's how their magic manifested), or whether they're pre-determined at birth. it's not uncommon for there to be resemblances in a family (Vincent's deep rust compared to Maxi's fresh blood, Emile and Hex had similar colors as well). certain color types/families tend to be associated with corporeal and non-corporeal types of magic, and this gets even more varied as you branch out to the other families of They Who Decide, who don't all work with death magic, but have other... specialties, instead.
their second-basically-a-tie favorite, for each of them, would be the color of their Reader's eyes (bc they're all shmoopy dorks lmao).
their least favorite colors are as follows:
Maxi - highlighter yellow. it reminds him too much of studying for mortuary college, which was one of the most unhappy times in his life despite him being really talented at it. If he's making notes on something in his office, or underlining something a decedent's family needs to sign/review, he'll stick to pens as often as he can. Usually red, so he has a habit of including exclamation points/small smiley faces in places when it's not too unprofessional, so people know he's not being critical.
Hector - the color of a manila folder. he associates it with being stuck in a string of shitty temp jobs for a year after he first dropped out of university in Mexico City. in Hex's mind, nothing good ever comes in a manila folder. when he has to keep paperwork for his freelance photography, he'll make a point to buy literally any other color. usually black, which means that they frequently get misplaced in the mortuary, but purple if he can find them. if he has to use manila folders, he's not above covering them in stickers.
Rora - traffic cone orange. it used to be any shade of pink or powder blue, thanks to her mother Mathilde, but now that she's an adult and these colors aren't being forced upon her, she doesn't mind them so much in small doses (though she usually prefers to avoid bright colors/pastels in her own clothes). but traffic cone orange is everything she hates: it's bright, it's obnoxious, it's official (so in her mind, bureaucratic) and its presence usually means someone or something is getting in her way.
💐- Where is this oc's favorite place to relax?
Maxi: before he had the option of your house, he would go outside and sit in the cemetery next door to the Mortuary. when he was in his late teens/early twenties, he'd usually take a smoke break -- he picked up smoking for years after Hex moved and Rora and his mother died, but only ever close to home, and never anywhere there would be a client. so the cemetery next door became the most logical place, though he did make sure to take care to linger where the smoke wouldn't bother any of the residents. he finally made himself quit bc he was paranoid of someone finding one of his cigarette butts where one of his victims disappeared. before the October Arc, he'd take some lemonade and a couple of that morning's batch of cookies and sit on one of the fallen tombstones or a stone bench in a quieter corner to catch his breath/avoid the louder voices in the House for a while between viewings, embalmings, etc. now, it's mostly wherever you are, but especially your couch in your living room where the two of you can just hang out or your bed, where you can do other things.
Hex: for the longest time, it was whatever car he was using to move around from place to place. he had an older VW van for a while when he lived in Mexico that it made him nearly sick to part with when he moved but it was entirely too recognizable when it came down to hunting the links in his Chain. until he had to leave her at the Greymoon House, it was in the seat of Baby, his motorcycle. before he relocated back to town, he loved going on long rides to clear his mind/shake off any anxiety by literally just trying to outrun it. nowadays, whenever he gets antsy, he'll sneak over to your place where he can watch you go about your routine for a while. even if you guys have a date planned that night, sometimes he shows up early with his camera just to watch you get ready through the lens. your energy is calming for reasons he can't explain, and he's happy to be even just on the edge of your orbit if it means he can chill out a bit.
Rora: before she met you, it was either her garden or the swimming hole out back. when she was alive, going outside and getting sweaty and mussed was a rebellion against her appearance-obsessed mother, who never left the house herself without a sunhat or a parasol. whether it was digging in the dirt or sinking beneath the surface of the water, anything to make her feel like she wasn't just a doll to be dressed helped her release some of the anger she constantly felt coiled inside her. after she came back, she still tends to return to both when her projects or her plans for the mantle have gone awry. planting, weeding, anything on her knees among her flowers reminds her what it means to be on this side of the Veil, able to affect the world around her. she usually only goes to the water alone if things feel entirely out of control, when the silence underneath is the only way she can get her head to be quiet. now, though, she enjoys both much more if you're there - either seated in a chair with a drink she made you, or on your knees in the dirt with her, or with her in the cool of the pond. you make certain things lovely in a way she'd never appreciated before.
❄- What is this oc's favorite and least favorite food?
Maxi: they grew up in Louisiana, so the boy's going to eat anything Cajun eagerly. if he had to pick a favorite-favorite, it'd probably be Grandmere Morvant's gumbo recipe, which he can now replicate almost perfectly (you think it's absolutely delicious, but he swears it's still not as good as hers, which you can't even imagine). for least favorite, it's probably going to be basic ramen; he ate way too much of that during his Bad Spell, as he refers to it. he had hit a point where he was just eating to survive, obsessed with the next link in his Chain, so food and sleep were a matter of obligation only. this left him skinnier than usual and fairly scary looking -- it's probably for the best Hex destroyed most of the photos from this period. he still avoids it whenever he can, but if you made some with enough ingredients to significantly change the flavor, he'd have some bc he loves you and wants to respect anything you cooked for the pair of you. On his own, though, he has to physically suppress a shudder whenever he passes the cases of insta-ramen in the grocery store.
Hex: His mom's sister's chilaquiles verdes, hands down instantly. He basically lived off those when he lived with the Casares side of the family for the first time in his teens, and though he and Ranza have both mastered the recipe, he swears there's something missing from his too. He used to make them only when he really needed a pick-me-up, but now he'll make them whenever you even remotely mention craving some. (They too are absurdly good, Hex now understands that he basically has to double the recipe when he's cooking for both of you lmao.) For least favorite food, it's honest to god any kind of frozen dinner that comes in the plastic trays. Doesn't matter what food's actually involved, he just cannot stomach it. He associates it with the points in his life where he spent most of his time running from one messy crime scene to the next, stuck re-starting his Chain every few months, and that was the thing he usually stashed in his hiding places bc it would keep the longest. The first time he was spying on you and saw you pull one out when you were out of energy to cook, he nearly blew his own cover with how fast he called you to ask if you felt like him spontaneously coming over to make dinner. He refuses to let you resort to that if he can help it, and hates even touching the plastic at this point lmao.
Rora: Ror, as previously mentioned, has a tricky relationship with food. Some things just... taste different, after you're dead. She likes fresh fruit best -- it feels bright in her mouth, still alive. She bounces between the sweetest and sourest she can find, sometimes in the same sitting. Pastries are probably the thing she likes second best, especially if she can eat them one-handed while she reads something or sizes up her next specimen for taxidermy. Idk that she has a least favorite food as much as a spectrum of food she's okay with to foods she actively cannot stand due to how her palate works now. I think if she had to name one, if pressed, she'd say her mother's mashed potatoes. (Maxi and Hex will wholeheartedly agree with her - Mathilde could cook many things, but she seemed to have a jinx where her mashed potatoes always came out glue-y.) Anything you made, though, she'd be willing to eat. Even if it was something that didn't agree with her, she'd find a way to get it down even if it didn't stay there later, just because she appreciates the gesture of you taking the time to cook for her so much.
Thanks so much for these questions, babe! Sorry I got carried away as usual lmao <3
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The Art of Lying in Interviews
Lessons From a Desperate Backpacker
I have a new job! My fifth one in the last 12 months, the true backpacker experience. I am a Temp Reception/Admin girl at a big fancy engineering company, located in one of the many industrial areas of Perth. It took me a month of applying and about 35 applications on SEEK, Australia’s biggest job forum, but I finally landed an interview. A girl named Georgia called from a recruitment agency and asked if I have my own vehicle, what my working rights are and how I feel about data entry, and then booked me in for Friday at 12pm. It was to be the same day as another interview I’d gotten for a sales job that I didn’t really want, but that I figured I’d give a go just in case. It was desperate times for me after being unemployed for 6 weeks, along with big wedding bills looming. I figured I’ll take what I can get, even if I do despise the idea of schmoozing people over a cold call about solar panels over their lunch break.
So, when Friday morning came, I put on the carefully planned outfit I’d laid out for myself the night before: white button up shirt and black dress pants from the op shop, with a Kmart blazer borrowed from a friend. I applied the new makeup I’d bought on a spending spree two days before, not daring to touch the $82 YSL primer I’d impulse bought at the department store. I planned on exchanging it for a pair of office appropriate loafers, since the only shoes I owned were combat boots, skate shoes and beat-up sandals. The primer & its carefully folded receipt joined my air pods, a minty-fresh vitamin D mouth spray and a Velcro curler in the small pocket of my tote bag. Ready for the day.
The first interview was for the sales job. A 10am appointment in the city, which I triple checked from the email they sent me. Directions to the office included the words “Stop n’ Grab Convenience” and the ad title was posted as “Immediate Start – No Experience Needed,” so my hopes weren’t exactly high.
When I got off the train at 9:27am, I had enough time to grab a coffee. I spotted some A-frame signs with photos of cappuccinos on a marble staircase, so I followed them into a fancy office building. Inside, I joined a throng of corporate looking people ordering flat whites. I inspected all the women’s shoes while I waited for my coffee, trying not to feel self-conscious about my black vans. I’d chosen them over my fake leather combat boots due to the fact it was forecasted to be 33 degrees that day, but now felt like an imposter in them. Everyone can tell I don’t belong here, I thought.
Despite it all, I’d found myself feeling optimistic as I trudged up the sidewalk with my cappuccino. I watched the bright morning light fall between the tall buildings and glint off their windows. 9:30am tends to have that affect, especially in Australia where usually the sun is already intense enough to make you turn on your A/C and squint through your sunglasses. That sort of toxically happy vibe is contagious, even to me in an anxious, pre-interview state. As I turned the corner I thought, I could do this every day. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad.
About 5 minutes later, all forms of optimism had turned to incredulity. As the email said to, I looked for the Stop n’ Grab Convenience, which was easy to spot due to the number of people milling around it. They all looked how I felt, which was confused and nervous. All wore some version of sneaker, and were dressed in varying levels of office-appropriate wear. A guy in the corner stood with his cap covering almost his entire face, and a black hoodie tightly stretched over a white dress shirt. A girl nearer the door wore a grey trench coat with her hair in a tight bun, and another wore gym shorts with a hoodie and hightop converse. One guy wore a full suit with dress shoes. It was like walking into a career fair at a university and watching all the panicking graduates-to-be trying to look like adults.
I peaked inside to see a white poster with “CLIMASOLAR INTERVIEW WAITING ROOM” written in purple marker, tacked to the wall near a tight staircase. You had to pass by the store counter to get there, the guy behind it looking bored and unphased by the crowd forming near the sign. By 9:55am there are almost 20 people in and around the store, all looking around at each other with equally confused expressions. A guy in a red t-shirt and cargo pants asked me in broken English, “You are here for sales job?” and I nodded, mustering a smile. I realize that everyone who applied got called for an interview, and feel sheepish thinking how carefully I’d picked out my outfit.
My first instinct was to leave and try to maintain my dignity, but the bigger part of me wanted to see what kind of trainwreck this was going to be. Plus, I had just taken the train all the way here and spent $5 on a coffee, so, I might as well see it through. At 10am on the dot a guy in golf shorts and a polo shirt, maybe 25 years old, unlocks the door to the staircase and everyone starts filing up the stairs. I hide my smile when I see a ping pong table in the corner. The guy herds us into a small room with a 6-person table and a white board with 25-year-old boy handwriting on it. Everyone crowds along the walls, but I manage to snag a seat in the back corner, texting Conor “I can’t wait to tell you about this” with a popcorn emoji and a laughing face. The guy who let us in sits on a stool next to the white board, tells us his name is James, and starts telling us about the job in a British accent. Highlights are that the day starts at 11am, there are free beers in the fridge (just don’t drink them in the morning) and there is a ping pong table you can use any time you want. First month pay is $500 a week and then after that you can get as much as $1500 a week! Plus, did he mention the free beers?!
He then asks us to take turns saying our names and our experience, then again saying our hobbies, and I am suddenly launched back into a junior high classroom. We all fidget with our fingers and say things like “uhm, I like to hang out with my friends.” The ridiculousness of at all hits me and I can’t stop grinning. Then, he brings out a basket of items and tells us to guess what he wants us to do with them. “Yep”, he says, “you guessed it.” We are to pick an item from the basket and sell it to him. Everyone laughs nervously as he exits the room, and I see him sit down at a desk and pull out his phone while everyone grabs something from the basket. I’m next to last and I luck out with a small bottle of Bushman’s bug spray, which reminds me of the time Conor and I went camping with our new inflatable kayak (promptly returned the next day). We’d gotten viciously attacked by march flies the second we stepped out of our Rav4, their massive pincers biting ruthlessly and thick wings as loud as a motorcycle. It was like something out of a horror film. We’d spent an hour taking turns pumping the kayak while the other swatted flies away from the pumper’s ankles, before abandoning the kayak for a swim in the river. A kind lady had gone around the campsite that evening offering all the unprepared dummies (ie. us) Bushman’s bug spray, saving us from an evening of hiding in our tent.
Holding the tiny bottle of Busman’s in that crowded board room, images of John Bernthal selling Leonardo DiCaprio a pen in the Wolf of Wall Street run through my mind, and I am unable to keep the bemused smirk off my face. I can see everyone panicking about what to say, but all I can do is silently giggle. At last, James pulls his feet down from his desk and comes back in, asking for a volunteer to go first. I watch as the sneaker-clad 20-somethings take turns pitching crayons, sticky tape and rulers. One guy stands up on his seat, while another girl’s words are barely discernable. When it comes to me I keep it short n sweet: “Don’t be a dummy like me and go into the woods without Bushman’s bug spray- it has SPF, too!” I’m just here for the show. When that’s finished, he asks us again to go around the room with our names and when we can start, and we do so while he marks up the paper we all wrote our names and phone numbers on. He finishes by saying thanks for coming in, and if we don’t hear from him don’t take it personally, he does 2 or 3 of these interviews a day (a day!?!?!). Then he swiftly opens the door to dismiss us, and we file out while two other 25 year old boys dressed in shorts and t-shirts play ping pong. I’m back outside the Stop n’ Grab by 10:20am.
Walking back towards the train I immediately call Conor. He answers the phone, “Spill the tea” and we laugh for the next 15 minutes. “That was worth every minute and dollar spent getting here,” I tell him, and I mean it, swiping my Transperth card. I run to catch the train back out of the city, and that experience is over. As I’m finding my seat I am already filing it in my “Backpacker Experiences” box, where it joins things like hitchhiking in Panama and sleeping in 8-bed hostel dorm rooms.
The thing about me is that, usually, once I’ve got the interview, I’ve got the job. I interview well because I am an expert at telling people what they want to hear. I make sure to appear bubbly and enthusiastic, confident but not cocky. I smile and shake their hands, and I ask what the work culture is like and what success in this role looks like. But I’ll let you in on a secret. The real key to an interview is not to be shy about how bad you want that job. Some might think that’s a bad look, but people love feeling like they are in control; like they are in the power seat. If you do it right, they’ll be so charmed by your enthusiasm that they’ll look past the fact that you’ve hardly ever been at a job longer than 6 months. You’ll leave them smitten and excited to invite you onto their inevitably mismanaged, dysfunctional team.
It was with this confidence and a stomach full of coffee and scrambled eggs that I drove to my next interview that Friday. I’d ditched my vans for my boots during a quick stop at Conor’s parent’s place, where we were crashing until our room in a new sharehouse was available. After the crowd of sneakers at the sales interview I opted to just be a bit hot rather than wear sneakers. Optics, you know. When I arrived, I knew I’d made the right decision. Walking through the glass door I was greeted by two girls at the reception desk who pointed to a tablet for me to sign in to. They both wore only black, and when one of them showed me to a room with a sturdy wooden table and branded pens, I noticed her black leather heels. I filled out an application which, as they all are, was a form asking me to write out everything that is already on my resume. I handed it back to her when I was finished, and then waited to be greeted by two similarly dressed women, close to my age, who both firmly shook my hand. They had my resume printed out in front of them and a list of questions which they jotted down notes under.
I went to work charming them and selling them the lie I have to tell in interviews for office jobs, which is that I am finally settling down after years of travelling. I have gotten quite good at this lie, and nearly convince myself sometimes. I tell them how nice it is to be looking for jobs where I want to stay for a while, and how I want to put down roots. I have a line about wanting to put up a shelf that people love, and these two women ate it up. When the interview was over, I waved goodbye to the girls at the reception desk, got in my car and phoned Conor: “I definitely got that one, they loved me,” I told him. As I left the parking lot, a girl who I assume is next up for the interview walked up to the reception doors; she was wearing sneakers and a white t-shirt.
Sure enough, when Conor and I arrive at a country pub to meet his sister 1.5 hours later, I have a missed call from the recruitment agency. She says congratulations, Raylene! They want me to start Tuesday, fill out one million induction forms and am I okay to do a medical? I say yes, no worries, of course, how exciting! Conor and I cheers our beers and my adrenaline from the interview turns into wave of relief. I’m finally employed. The grovelling and the performing is over. I’m going to have income again!
We order chicken burgers to celebrate, and I message a girl on Facebook Marketplace about a pair of Dr. Marten loafers. I bargain down the price and she says I can pick them up later that day.
I never hear from the sales job.
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youtube
Yow, je sais bien que vous allez vous jeter sur le Isha/Limsa (moi aussi) et peut-être d'autres trucs car ce vendredi est riche en belles sorties. Mais avant tout ça, consacre un peu moins de 3 petites minutes au duo que t'ignorais qu'il te fallait ! Passe-passe ciselé rempli à rabord de bonnes phases. On n'est pas tout seuls, en plus de @sixomasterflow et moi au micro, retrouve une prod boom bap lourdissime (et Mix/Master) de @crystalcaminobeats , des scratches assassins de la machine à skillz @djbust , et Dope cover de @daex ! Écoute/partage/like/commente, tsé bien on en a plus besoin que l'autre super duo du jour. Let's go !!!
>>>>> Tar One Ft Sixo Master Flow - Omerta sur YouTube ou les plateformes de streaming
Tar One ft Sixo Master Flow - Omerta Lyrics
J'me suis baigné dans toutes les rivières mais c'est dans un verre que j’vais finir par me noyer
Là j’suis en feux ça y est, je n'ai plus le temps, j’ai pas de montre au poignet
Plutôt du côté cailleras et voyous que flics et douaniers
Balancez moi des lacrymo j'adore le poivre de Cayenne
Du Rap ils s’amourachent, moi accro comme à la samouraï
Trouve ça pourrave qu’il soit dans les mains de Saroumanes
Ils saoulent comme Sambuca mais on les graille comme Samoussa
Ce game est comme toi si tu testes : plein d’sales trous d’balles !
Avant c'était NTM ou c'tait IAM
Maintenant c'est MDR tous des swagg man
Tu m'déçois grave comme un vegan qui craque et s'bouffe des toast de foie gras
Mon arme est linguistique tout comme les malfrats
Quand j’fais ça j’me marre bien
Cracheur de feu mais pas genre Punk à chien
Dans le cahier gratte, comme Diego marque de la main
Comme mes sapes, l’arrogance me va bien
Très Gros tatane à la Jason Statham
Toujours en feux toujours chaud patate
Trop badass trop ratal OH l'bâtard
J'ai ma cons ma came ma grosse matraque
Retournerai pas ma veste comme Marlène Schiappa
Me relève malgré la poisse comme Boogie, Klay, Isiah
On met ta team à l’amende, surplombe comme Himalaya
Pour la fraternité on milite mais c’est pas l’Hymne à la Joie
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Tu t’avances si tu t’avances, j’m’en branle, fais de même
Si je recule, c’est pour te mettre un fade away
Vrai de vrai, mets tas d’claques avec élégance
Comme éléphant j’attaque même avec mes défenses
J'porte pas d'or ma caille
pas de bling bling mais j'big up mes gars qui porte des portacath
Fin d'soirée faudra qu'on me porte à 4
J'porte mes couilles comme Batman porte sa cape
Rimes, patterns, Big Faya, divine Vibe, ça j’aime
Passe-passe, on s’passe parole comme Frisbie, Yves Van Laetem
Big Beat, kickage, pas d’thème
Évite les pièges comme Bip-Bip, j’kiffe ça Gaddamn !
Ici pas de costard cravate, pas de grosse star, sauf Rapsat et Green Montana
Donc on brise ton cadenas
Fiston pars là-bas
Évitons l'carnage
Vire ta zik de carnaval
On est la crème de Verviers et de tout c’merdier
J’suis fier du p’tit frère, un killer comme Berthier
Tue comme grosse Bertha, on fait la paire, fils : Homer-Bart
Te réduit au silence comme Omerta
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“it feels like my brain (was floating in a fishtank)”
(See warnings/summary on Ao3.)
[ Prologue/Start ] [ Previous ]
Chapter 8: Turn Up The Silence
It was an ungodly hour of night.
Roman rode in an unmarked black van alongside Virgil, with various kinds of equipment for the mission ahead of them. They were already kitted with gloves, ski masks, and Kevlar vests. That last part made Roman squirm a little bit, Virgil exaggerated his eye roll, “You got the brief, Meta Knight. You know this place is gonna be swarming with guns.”
“I-I know that! I may not act like it, but I’m not dumb!”
Virgil gave an amused snort.
Roman wasn’t having it, “The ONLY reason I agreed to any of this was to help my family!”
“Only reason?”
“Okay, maybe it all sounds a little exciting too. How many wonders can one warehouse hold?”
Virgil sputtered, “Gods, if I wasn’t the one driving here, I’d punch you for that.”
Roman laughed and then sobered, “Seriously? I just want to be more… useful. I can’t BE that when I still can't stop thinking about Steve! This is the only way for me to bury his corpse deep enough!”
He remembered that moths had fragile, scaly wings. When Remus wasn’t Remus, the anathema felt like a gust rammed him into the lantern glass over and over again – breaking off his pretty ruby scales in helpless plumes. It wasn’t conscious nor human. He was driven only by the instinctual search for a guiding light in the things he Hungered. He was back to wondering how he’d feel, when that instinct was allowed to sleep, altogether.
Roman shook his head when Virgil parked the van and told him, “We can start unpacking all that when we’re done. Allons, laissez les bons temps rouler! ”
“Huh?”
Virgil rolled his eyes, “Time to look alive, Robro.”
Roman flushed, “Did you just-?”
Virgil whistled lowly, failing slightly at being flippant, “More like having a brother in crime, but, it’s whatever.”
The two of them were parked a good distance away from the location, in an alley barely large enough for the van to fit in. There, they finished gearing up.
Virgil had added a pistol and a pair of Bowie knives to his kit and grabbed basically anything he could possibly need to subdue the guards, but still travel light. His gear wasn’t going to be focused on taking and hauling out the objects of interest – that was going to be Roman’s job. Virgil was there to grease the gears of this operation, most likely with blood.
Roman had a backpack with a pair of large, folded up duffel bags inside it – like what he took with him to the Whites’ house. Roman also brought along a combat knife, a crowbar, zip ties, duct tape, and a bat. Roman knew it didn’t make a whole lot of sense, fearing guns so much he couldn’t make himself handle one and yet he was about to jump in the lion’s den like this?
Roman was a being of nightmares – he had this intuition about the nature of fear and how inconsistent it tends to get with humans. Nightmares, those were something he was going to need to lean on more. He was glad his competitive streak led to his athleticism, and it was definitely going to be needed to get through this.
This warehouse complex had three buildings, fencing off the staging area and loading zone. They were told to look around in each building OR until they found the goods. The loading zone was open and sea-side. Nobody was in port at the time, nor were there any expected landings that night. So, there wasn’t going to be as much detail from over there.
Virgil took point and guided Roman along a path around the outside border of the complex, hugging the walls. They headed toward the loading zone and found cover behind a stack of storage containers. They only had less than a couple feet of clearance between solid ground and the drink. Roman wasn’t particularly fond of this rather claustrophobic space.
While they crouched in cover, Virgil looked around fully alert. Virgil eventually turned to Roman, making the “quiet” gesture.
After a nod, Virgil pointed at himself, then traced a path along the sea-side wall of the building in front of them, and up toward the roof. He then pointed at Roman, doing the “wait” gesture.
After a pause, Virgil pointed at himself again, did the “watching” gesture, and tapped his earpiece. With one more nod from Roman, Virgil took off.
Roman was mind blown by the absolute lack of noise the man was making, deftly navigating the shadows as he scurried to his next point. Roman cursed the dim lighting from where he stood, as he squinted at the roof.
After what felt like forever, Roman swore he heard the emo hiss through the earpiece and a few thuds, before quietly talking, “There were a couple chucklefucks up here. Took care of them. Now, let’s see…”
Roman leaned into some habits his Mom and extended family had – a good number being Air Force and National Guard members. He simply replied, “Copied.”
“I’m gonna stay up top. See the building to your 5 o’clock, the one next to the crane? I’ll clear the roof. You should then have some space to get that guy next to you without getting sniped.”
“Careful?”
“Tch.”, Virgil went quiet again.
Roman peaked past the cover he’d taken, to see who Virgil pointed out. There was bound to be more, further into the staging area, but this one didn’t seem to have anyone too close on the ground for the swipe. Roman looked back up to see that Virgil was gone.
After a few moments, Roman was itching to do something. He didn’t have to wait long before Virgil chimed in, “Got ‘em. You’re clear to engage.”
Roman put the roll of duct tape around one wrist and readied his bat. As soon as that guy had his back turned, Roman swooped in from behind. He managed to get him in a choke hold with the bat, before he could scream or react at all.
“Shhh, just sleep.” Roman didn’t want to outright kill the guy.
As soon as the guard grew weak – Roman wrapped tape around the mouth and tied up his arms. Roman had the man’s arms overhead and hooked around the latch of a nearby container, seated slack. He hoped he remembered some of the things his Dad had said about this sort of thing, correctly.
He knew he was probably not going to have that kind of time going forward, though. He knew that eventually he was going to hear screaming and gunfire. Roman relayed what he did back to Virgil.
Virgil answered, “Okay, I’ll meet you inside the building next to you.”
As soon as that was said, Virgil stepped out of nearby shadows and glanced at Roman. He then gave Roman a two-fingered wave, climbed up the sea-side wall, and slid right into one of the windows. Roman quietly grumbled as he carefully walked to the nearest personnel entrance. “… show off.”
Roman rattled the knob, locked. Before he could get much leverage in with the crowbar, the door opened on its own, and startled Roman. A hand went for his mouth muffling the yelp that almost came out, another stopping the crowbar he was about to blindly swing into the dim space. It was Virgil’s hands, Roman was more than a little irritated about it.
Virgil rolled his head to exaggerate what his eyes were doing and went back to using gestures as they entered. He relayed that there was a handful of guards in there, patrolling the aisles of stocked goods inside.
This time, Roman was taking point, while Virgil was watching his back.
Roman’s job was to scan the shelves for anything suspicious or of interest. Roman admitted his thoughts came to what he hungered for more than anything else more often than not, but it was somehow a little easier to stay focused on other things. It felt like a tug of war, how much he wanted to leave this state, once they figured out how to help his brother out of whatever trouble he found himself in.
Roman swept his flashlight, only to find various appliances, hardware, and chemistry supplies. His desire to find something that actually interested him made him rush through the process of properly inspecting things. He did well enough in chemistry, but it was just on the high school level. Like most subjects, he studied only enough to pass the class with high marks, just for the award at the end. Not enough to fully and usefully commit everything to memory post-graduation.
Remus was more interested in that sort of thing, anyways. Roman stifled a chuckle. The endless possibilities in that field would totally appeal to his dear brother. He wondered what he would do, if he worked this place with them.
Still, he couldn’t really tell if any of these stocks of chemicals weren’t copacetic – that they weren’t meant for such respected aims of industry, research, or education. Virgil seemed a bit bothered by how quickly he passed through these items – to which Roman shrugged and whispered, perhaps a little too loudly, “Just because I don’t know what half these things are even for doesn’t mean they’re automatically drugs or something!”
“Who’s there?!”
Virgil flailed a bit, buried his face in his hands a moment, and then saw an approaching cone of light. He finally let out a clipped, yet still very quiet, “Shit. Hide!”
Roman looked around a moment and stuffed himself into a fridge. He regretted it immediately, way too dark and cramped and not much air to breath. He realized this was yet another moment his atavisms really could’ve helped. He lost track of time as his head grew foggy from suffocation before the door was opened.
Yet again, before he could retaliate he was briefly blinded by a flashlight. When his eyes adjusted to the room’s lighting, he saw Virgil. Roman was about to ask what happened to the guy, Virgil hushed him and pointed up at a wad of webbing in the rafters.
Virgil then gestured to Roman to keep moving. So they scanned everything they could in that building. They left it empty-handed, by the time they exited out the other side of the place. Virgil didn’t seem too upset, in fact the guy appeared to be thrilled with putting the fear of death in people. He grappled and bound them up before they could even understand what was happening; some more joined that guy up in the rafters, one guy slapped onto some shelving – like a frat boy duct-taped to a wall, and another cobwebbed to the floor.
Vicariously Roman felt it too, it was like Virgil was sharing a meal again, even if it wasn’t quite to his taste and he couldn’t really indulge in it just yet.
Roman mostly leaned on his football training and managed to tackle one of those guys before he could effectively retaliate. Even though that guy did still manage to fire his gun, thankfully, he didn’t hit anything Roman and Virgil cared about.
Soon, they exited the building especially warily. No way in hell did that shot go unnoticed.
The next building in front of them was the one furthest inland of the complex and the biggest of the three. When they found another cranny to take cover in, the two were hearing some shouting among the guardsmen.
Virgil dispensed gesturing, given the noise, but spoke quietly to Roman, “I’m going to get more of the roof guys taken care of. I’ll let you know what I can see, but watch your back.”
“O-of course.”
Just as Virgil got past the edge of the next roof and out of Roman’s line of sight, Roman heard someone shout for him, “HEY! Who are you!?”
Roman nervously tittered, feeling himself freeze up as the guardsmen pointed their gun at him. He needed to calm down and craft a nightmare, to get out of this. He stared intently into the opponent’s eyes, searching for his foothold, his eyes beginning to glow red.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
-
Call Roman predictable, but he pulled imagery straight from Sleeping Beauty, putting this guy smack dab in that briar-infested castle. Only this place was craggy and dark and the sound of Roman’s Horror rumbled through the entire structure. It took a few growls and roars, getting louder and louder before the Nightmare took effect and dissolved.
-
The guy immediately turned around and booked it in the other direction, screaming his lungs out, “The fUCK WAS IN THOSE BREAK ROOM BROWNIES?!”
Roman took a deep breath, relieved it worked. But he had to run for the second building before that guy alerted anyone else to his position. He didn’t wait for Virgil’s input as he tore open the next door, slightly more easily from being made a touch hungrier from what he just did.
He knew he should avoid doing that again, if he wanted this whole effort to be worth it. He took advantage of the whiffs of fear Virgil was inflicting around and above him, as he was trying to find a spot inside to collect himself. He looked around, whispering into the earpiece, “Vee, where are you?”
Roman was about to enter the restroom when someone grabbed him, he heard a woman’s voice, “Alright, ‘you one of the chucklefucks here shakin’ up my night, this mighty fine hour?”
Roman immediately felt that she wasn’t human, but another Beast. She was a giant. Roman couldn’t think of a coherent response, “M-Ma’am, I can explain!”
She made an exaggerated sniff, dangling Roman against a nearby wall, “You’re a Beast… huh. Either you’re Chuckles the Fuckin’ Jester comin’ in here by yourself or-”
Virgil arrived just in time, and tensed up at the scene, barely able to keep his voice down, “Ro!”
The towering woman just looked back displeased, “Oh, I recognize that voice.”
Virgil let out a clipped, “Shit.”
Roman was absolutely confused. His voice cracked while trying and failing to also stay quiet, “Uh? Y-you guys know each other?!”
The woman groaned and grabbed both of them into the bathroom. She had them by the collars and slammed them into the nearest wall, “Looks like Little Mx. Jan-wary has no respect for ’pointment makin’! A complaint will be filed-”
Roman was completely lost, “Mx. January?”
Virgil rolled his eyes, again, “Janus.”
Roman wanted to wildly gesture at the strange woman restraining him, “And who the hell are you!?”
“Call me Annie. Also, I can’t be seen cohortin’ with you chucklefucks, lemme make this crystal. The guys out there don’t know about our dealin’s or nothin’. Keep it that way.”
Roman gulped, barely following.
She basically only looked at Virgil, at that point, annoying Roman, “The mules’re in Aisle 3B, can’t miss ‘em. Let’s make a bit of a scene here, ‘fore I finish smashing up the systems.”
She released them, turned around and obliterated the nearby mirror with a punch. Virgil took his pistol and aimed at her, Roman stammered, “You can’t be-?!”
“Cover your ears. The clock’s gonna start when I-”, he fired a couple shots, one into her flank and another into the nearby sink.
Annie growled, and simply told them to go. Virgil turned off the lights and pulled Roman through a familiar dark pathway and back into a different part of the same building. Roman was disoriented as he was being dragged along by Virgil. In moments, they were at 3B and Roman was being hissed at by Virgil, “Hussle!”
Roman blinked a second and got to swift work. There was shouting funneling into the building and he tried to stay focused. It didn’t take long to find that the shelf was filled with a line of Winnie the Pooh Plushies! He was immediately starry eyed as he unfurled and filled the duffel bags until he could just barely zip them closed again.
There was something in the back of his mind thinking it odd that there were a lot of Eeyores on the shelf and that they seemed suspiciously heavier than expected. Once the guardsmen seemed to notice they'd been hit, Roman felt some stray electrification. As they drew closer and he caught a glimpse of a few of their faces through the gaps, he was dazed by the wafting desperation.
There was a haze of gunfire and shouting and the smell of blood in the air, but Roman just tried his best to savor it for a few more precious moments. There were spikes of fear that resolved to silence. The storm of emotions eventually grew distant, and he could gain no more from it.
He felt disconnected.
Roman wasn’t sure precisely when Virgil had pulled him back into his Lair.
This time, Roman felt… small.
-
As the last days approached before the new generation of spawn were ready, Remus barely managed to revisit the incubation chamber, once more. It might’ve made a joke about how tight it felt inside, but it found coherent thought harder and harder to reach.
It wasn’t sure how many times it was going to be able to manage doing so, at the rate of things.
The chamber was bigger than ever before. Seeing the eggs twitch with life filled it with joy again. Nothing mattered, when it beheld their soothing glow. It nestled closely with them and simply imagined the wonders it could accomplish with more offspring joining Rigby and Eleanor. It helped move along the oceanic currents around the clutch in the chamber and they were doing very well.
Remus struggled to remember when it last saw Cass within this space. If it ever did, despite claiming to help.
As the eggs started to open up, in front of it, it blacked out again.
When it came to, it sat with six of the horrorspawn piled around its lap. It named the new ones at some point. “… Lucy… Sally… Sadie… Rita...”
It almost looked like its body melted into a slimy, pulsating blanket, as they squirmed contentedly around it.
The congregation cheered and danced before it. It was delicious, soaking in the strange cloud of desperation buried underneath the hedonism. Their worlds were falling apart, in between the Visions Remus conjured and the mind-altering Sacrament Cass produced, they could only laugh. Cass held it close, as the spawn dispersed.
Its eyes, its mind, in so many places – desperately only focusing on filling the hole it carved.
It? Remus? Cass? It wasn’t sure.
It just knew how much it loved how its children could do so much damage in so many places it couldn’t be tracked down from or to be hurt through. The school was bleeding money and staff repairing the campus. The new superstitions of the marketplace vendors. The delightfully haunted reputation of the yacht club.
It was a giggling mess of blinding and delirious euphoria. It didn’t care anymore when a couple of them went to circle its old home or the estate, more often. At least, it thought it didn’t.
Cass was there to remind it that its body needed food too, that was nice. Cass was. Nice.
Cass had taken to whispering to it, “My Sign, you are magnificently delectable . I love you.”
Cass helped Remus refill that hole.
-
Janus met up again with Roman and Virgil after the run through the warehouse. This time they saw Annie there as a guest, Roman was strangely relieved she seemed to be doing alright, despite favoring where she was shot.
Roman was still reeling about how different everything felt after it all. He was not used to this mental space where he was never restless to Feed. Hell, even before his Devouring, he still had that drive – even if it was still unconnected. He almost liked it.
Virgil seemed to notice him being lost in thought, snapping his fingers in his face, “Earth to Princey…”
Roman cleared his throat, “R-right. H-here’s what I-we recovered.”
Despite the quelled Hunger, Roman had gotten used to his possessive streak, and was worried about putting the duffel bags on the table and opening them. Like he was expecting everyone else in the room was going to descend upon them like a committee of vultures.
The only person that moved was Janus. They grabbed a seam ripper from their desk, strolled up and pulled out one of the Eeyores. They snorted, “Some boss you had there, Annie. How. Discreet.”
Both Annie and Virgil did the eye roll thing, which only made Virgil glare at her. Roman was too distracted by Janus, “What are you going to do? W-with th-that?”
“This,” Janus popped some stitches along the donkey’s belly and reached inside its fluffy polyester innards.
Roman’s squirming seemed to amuse Janus before they pulled out a large bag of tightly wrapped white powder. Roman could only sputter out, hand to chest, “I FEEL SO-SO USED!”
Janus laughed, Virgil and Annie snorted. Roman collected himself, “… is that what I think it is?”
“Mmmhm... and look,” Janus brought the unit of angel dust closer.
It had a note attached, simply reading, “Deepest condolences, WW.”
Roman blinked, “WW… I remember from the book.”
Virgil spoke, “It’s the police chief, right?”
Annie smiled with too many teeth showing, “Oh yeah. Heard from the guys, the pig’s been losing his damn mind and it’s been makin’ things a cakewalk! Mixxy Jan-wary really outdid herself with this one!”
Janus blushed, “I’m not one to share my secrets willy nilly, but… let’s just say some happy accidents occurred in my interests’ favor.”
Roman wasn’t sure he really wanted to know what they were on about, he just wanted to have the contraband removed and his prize safe from everyone. Virgil chose to engage, “Now, I love a cornered animal as much as the next guy, but…”
The discussion went on about how Mr. White’s life had been falling apart at the seams. His daughter and his prospective son-in-law both had gone missing. His wife leaving him, allegedly battered. The following reports of escalating drunken disorderly conduct, forcing him to take extended personal leave. Rumors of his family’s ties to local hate groups being found true.
This would add organized drug smuggling to his list of disgraces. He was going to lose his position, it was just going to be a matter of when and by whose hand. The grim implications, obvious.
Janus sighed, oozing with sarcasm, “I know there will always be others like him, but he will be dearly missed.”
Further chatter was interrupted by the sound of loud noises coming from one of the lower floors – from the garage.
When they went to check – it was Horrorspawn.
It vanished before anyone could properly see it – but it felt like a familiar presence.
It came there, just to wreck Carrie’s car.
-
After weeks of no sign of Remus, something changed.
The Brood would get glimpses of Horrorspawn popping in on them, again and again. The creatures usually took to harassing the non-Beasts on premises, the most, the targets he could actually get something out of.
Everyone knew it was Remus. Or, rather, it could be Remus.
Ellis was clearly aggravated to find his library in disarray, with some of the tomes drenched and moldering at a rapid rate. Thankfully, his magic could recover some of it. Ellis mentioned that he knew from the way those things seemed to shudder with excitement, seeing his frustration, that they were Feeding on him.
They simply needed to be present for Patton to start crying. The child constantly said he was more worried than frightened. No one claimed they told him exactly what was wrong with Remus. Not that they completely grasped what Remus was going through themselves. Patton would often say things like, “… he’s hurting. Why doesn’t anyone comfort him?”
Vic couldn’t ignore the way Patton responded to those creatures and felt helpless about it. Vic tried to remain positive, remembering how much joy Remus had working with him. He wasn’t ready to start grieving, not yet. Vic was sure his feeling that his family could teeter into ruin was getting Fed upon too. He wondered what his son was going through and what he could even control anymore. Patton seemed to know things and clung to him as well as Carrie.
Carrie was the only one that the spawn avoided. She would only hear about most of these things after it happened. It was another reminder of what she had done to her own child. She desperately wanted him back and safe.
Roman in particular shuddered at the sight of them. The fact he was feeling like he was being spied on the most just made him more upset. Especially when Virgil and Janus didn’t seem to note more than fleeting glimpses.
He still thought it was a little too inhuman for him to be comfortable with – the ability to make those things. That still didn’t mean he was any different, he was capable of making those things too. It was always a source of tension with him – something more tangible now that his Horror slept.
-
There was this gnawing wrongness coming from the way Roman kept staring back at it.
Why did it hurt? Why did it hurt when its father looked at him that way? Or the brief glimpses of its mother it had the nerve to steal?
Cass’s voice whispered at him, even though Remus swore he didn’t say any of that aloud, “You were never human, why do you care?"
Remus wasn’t sure how it managed, but it was in its Lair again. It thought it was mad with Cass, when it asked why it hurt. It felt uncharacteristically cramped, smaller, inside there. It questioned its memory again.
It wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but it decided to close off the chamber it shared with Roman. It knew, it felt that there was something wrong. It stung him, for some reason.
No, it didn’t need him or any of them. Cass said so.
But Cass never told it to collapse that tunnel. Was it for Cass?
At least, it didn’t think so. Cass might have whispered the thought to it. Cass seemed to be colder to it afterward.
Or was it for Roman? Roman felt smaller and squishier than usual, like a freshly molted crab. That made it want crab, suddenly. It wasn’t sure why something in him-it was repulsed by that thought train.
Nothing would matter, when it had such a great and terrible Promise to keep.
-
@milktea531 @r0sethrills
Feel free to ask to be on a tag list, if you wish!
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#spilled musing#sanders sides#begotten au#roman sanders#virgil sanders#remus sanders#janus sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders
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Pomegranate-Pistachio Van Houten Cake
Very rich, heavy chocolate cake. It was improv first time round, based on the Hershey’s choc cake basic recipe, next time I think more liquids. Just unsure what or how that will affect baking, which took 84 minutes. Crazy. Baked in two trays covered with foil, stacked atop each other, at 160C. So the temp and time would change as well. I switched the tiers every 18 or so minutes.
Requires two water-tight baking dishes - just used wax paper, no need to butter up.
Measured the mixing bowl first, then measured final batter. Subtracted bowl weight and divided by two to get the even weight for each tier.
Dry - largest bowl
1 cup wholemeal and 3/4 cup plain flour
100 g blitzed pistachio
3/4 cup cocoa powder, unsweetened. 1.5 tsp baking soda and baking powder, hefty pinch salt. I have literally no idea what I’m doing with raising agents and the recipe was too complicated to figure it out from chemical-math-scratch.
Wet - bowl. ‘Whisk’ wet into dry once mixed.
(you cannot actually whisk, way too thick)
1 egg + 1 yolk
1/2 cup olive oil
vanilla
200g warm sour cream (this should be 240g but the packet was only 200g. So.)
4-5tbsp jam - pomegranate and raspberry
6-8 tbsp pomegranate molasses
Prepare in mugs aside to pour into main batter while oven is preheating:
250g fresh pomegranate, melt in saucepan or microwave ~mins. Add 1.5 tbsp honey. Option to strain the liquid but this depends on your health & texture preferences. Felt more authentic with the full fruit. - hot
2tbsp coffee powder in 250ml of pistachio milk - hot
(Using the milk instead of boiling water makes a much thicker batter. One option is to increase the pomegranate juice proportion, as opposed to a) adding an egg white or b) adding sour cream
Next Day! Because I finished angrily checking baked-ness until 1 in the krupping morning.
Decor: Powerberry Fig Cream Cheese Filling and Pomegranate Ganche
Get your chilled tiers out.
Make your syrup.
This is 3/4 of a tiny bottle of powerberry juice reduced with 3 large, chopped dry figs. It takes around half an hour, transfer it to a glass and chill for a few minutes in freezer immediately after. There shouldn’t be any ‘liquidity’ surviving, this is the appearance:
Get half a pack of philly cream cheese (I think that’s approx 115g) to room temperature with 2-3 tablespoons of very cold full cream milk. Whip well, until fairly soft and fluffy but eh, who cares, cakes will squish it anyway. Mix 2 tbsp of the berry-fig syrup into the cheese, quick whip with hand mixer to even out. Spread across cake with dollops of more syrup atop.
I am the miracle worker that manages to choose the smaller of the baked cake halves to be on the bottom. Sigh.
Anyway, the next step is ganache which should be left to personal style. I wanted chonky.
Melted 4 tiny Green & Blacks 85% choco bars in some coconut oil, adding 1 tsp pomegranate molasses (or half? don’t know), honey (1/2 tbsp), jam (1.5tbsp), more cocoa powder (tbsp) to even out the icky sharp commercial sugar taste, and finally high quality butter 1.5 lady thumb chunk for the very best sheen and edge of flavour.
Used microwave (low) to melt it, stirring consistently in between blasts because apparently it’s more convenient to risk radiated food than to clean a pot and glass dish. Pour over cake. Jiggle to even out. This is a thick one so it wont be shiny or waterfall down the edges.
See ganache and filling width.
The cream cheese core is particularly good, so next time, if fancy enough to pipe, I would use some to decorate the top as well.
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Fwd: Conference: Roscoff_France.SexUnfolded.Sep11-15
Begin forwarded message:
> From: [email protected]
> Subject: Conference: Roscoff_France.SexUnfolded.Sep11-15
> Date: 23 October 2022 at 05:18:50 BST
> To: [email protected]
>
>
> Dear Colleagues,
>
> We would like to draw your attention to an upcoming Jacques Monod
> Conference:
>
> SEX UNFOLDED : SEX, ASEX, SEXES
>
> September 11-15, 2023 in Roscoff (Brittany), France.
>
> Jacques Monod Conferences, organized by CNRS, are known for the high
> scientific quality of the talks and discussions, in a relaxed atmosphere.
> The topics covered by the conference include: the evolution of sex and
> asex, the genomics of asexuals, meiosis modifications, the evolution
> of recombination and its detailed mechanisms, the evolution of sex
> determination and sex chromosomes, sexual conflicts and sex specific
> selection across genomes.
>
> The list of invited speakers is given below. Information about the
> conference and how to register will be available soon in a following
> message.
>
> Symposium Speakers:
>
> Jessica ABBOTT (Lund, Sweden)
> Doris BACHTROG (Berkeley, California, USA)
> Jens BAST (K�ln, Germany)
> Astrid B�HNE (Bonn, Germany)
> Tim CONNALLON (Victoria, Australia)
> Etienne DANCHIN (Sophia Antipolis, France)
> Marie DELATTRE (Lyon, France)
> Nicolas GALTIER (Montpellier, France)
> Tatiana GIRAUD (Orsay, France)
> Sylvain GLEMIN (Rennes, France)
> Christoph HAAG (Montpellier, France)
> Simone IMMLER (Norwich, UK)
> Mark KIRKPATRICK (Austin, Texas, USA)
> Thomas LENORMAND (Montpellier, France)
> Michael LYNCH (Tempe, Arizona, USA)
> Gabriel MARAIS (Porto, Portugal)
> Raphael MERCIER (K�ln, Germany)
> Pavitra MURALIDHAR (Davis, California, USA)
> Aline MUYLE (Montpellier, France)
> Sally OTTO (Vancouver, Canada)
> Bret PAYSEUR (Madison, Wisconsin, USA)
> Max REUTER (London, UK)
> Tanja SCHWANDER (Lausanne, Switzerland)
> Henrique TEOTONIO (Paris, France)
> Karine VAN DONINCK (Bruxelles, Belgium)
> Stephen WRIGHT (Toronto, Canada)
> Alison WRIGHT (Sheffield, UK)
>
> We hope to see you there
>
> Thomas Lenormand, Karine Van Doninck, Denis Roze
>
>
> Thomas LENORMAND
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So I had a temp job that paid really well for like a month and they recently relived me of my position. I haven’t told my mom because she will flip absolute shit bc I have house bills + 2 cars payments. My boyfriend lives with us and has a job that pays just enough to cover most of the bills so I have time to find another job if I just spam applications until the end of the month. Because my mother is like a demon sent from satan himself when she’s pissed I wake up at 6am during the weekdays and have my boyfriend pretend to drive me to work. (we just sit in a local park parking lot for about 45 minutes and then he drives home). I apply for jobs all night so that by morning I’m sleepy enough to just crash in the van for 8 hours or until she goes to work since she’s on call and mostly works evenings-nights or nights-morning. Pls send help I am an absolute mess of anxiety and scared of being a disappointment.
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How To start Services With Lower than $a hundred
1st High quality Transportation and Accent Transportation Services are only two of the numerous sedan services offered to passengers at Phoenix airport. Not many persons are able to pay for all this out of pocket. If you want a limo for a number of hours, you must pay extra. Give us a name, and tell us about all of the locations you wish to see and discover. If you want to take an Uber FROM JFK to Manhattan, exit baggage claim, order your Uber (using your Ibotta app after all) and the app will confirm with you one of the lettered passenger choose up areas. From pick up location to the time of your flight, our company will obtain all info needed from you forward of time to ensure there may be a automotive ready to take you to the airport if you end up ready to go. New shuttle firm out of Phoenix providing travelers with door to door service to all main Resorts and residential communities. You will have come to the professional reliable Party van and stretch limousine firm. Get picked up in a brand new Mercedes Van that provides free Wifi and the most economical rates within the West and East Valley.
The Valley Metro Light Rail is a terrific methodology to access a good portion of the valley from Phoenix to Tempe to Mesa. The light Rail route is proscribed and doesn't generally go north or south all through the greater Phoenix area. There are no restrooms or food on the Metro Light Rail. Ask the driver if any objects were turned in, or if you'll be able to test to see if it remains to be there. Non-public limousines are additionally obtainable with corporations similar to Accent Limo or Mechelle Limousine, which have obtained many customer ratings you could try yourself and see if it might higher fit your needs. In a metropolis this huge, it's not stunning to see a lot exercise. To reinforce the geography you'll be able to take the Metro Metropolis Bus which is absolutely wheelchair accessible and covers a broad footprint all through the Phoenix area. There are Jfk Airport to Times Square offering cheaper parking - some supply valet-parking, and you’ll have to take a shuttle to the airport. Our local shuttle suppliers can offer very inexpensive costs for college students who need to get between the airport and their college. Sedona shuttle transportation companies supply several departure occasions, most often from Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport, all through each day.
Whereas not as individualized as renting your own car, it is fairly simple to find a departure time that corresponds to your journey itinerary. New York Metropolis is one of the most popular locations and departure factors in the Private Jet Industry. Then PATH trains to the World Trade Center might be in your proper ($2.75 fare payable with your MTA card) and NJ Transit trains to New York Penn Station will be on your left. You too can discover airport rides for the Phoenix Convention Center throughout your next trade present or event from our listing of native floor transportation suppliers. Worldwide Affairs.--Inside obtainable funds, the suggestion contains $6,000,000 to continue implementation of the U.S.-Israel Energy Cooperative Settlement and to develop the U.S.-Israel Energy Center. This section covers airport shuttle transfers and public transit in the Phoenix metropolitan space and contains cities of Mesa, Glendale, Scottsdale, Tempe, Peoria, Avondale, Solar Metropolis, Gilbert, and Shock. Plus, if you are touring as a large household or you might have a massive group that might require multiple automobile to get you to your destination there are private shuttle buses. There is loads of out there seating but make sure that your brakes are working effectively as a result of you're not locked down.
With loads of accommodations in downtown Phoenix it is easy to search out Phoenix Lodge Shuttles that has your price range in mind. Phoenix is the capital of Arizona with a western model look and loads of pure surroundings. Make certain to take a look at the Desert Botanical Garden, which has a pure beauty for tourists to view. Check out some entire grain choices, such as whole grain cereals. You may discover that factors of curiosity are too spread out to succeed in solely on foot, there is restricted public transportation right here, and cabs should be scheduled versus caught, but Sedona does have Lyft and Uber. If taxicabs don’t match your requirements there may be always non-public sedan services. The primary one is NEWARK Penn Station - that's not the identical as New York Penn Station, so don’t get off there! Till LGA sees the completion of its $2 billion subway extension, JFK will probably be the easiest and sometimes cheapest airport to get to/from New York Metropolis. Should you test the brand new York airports map, you can find that Buffalo Niagara International Airport occupies a outstanding half.
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GOOD THINGS GOOD THINGS!
I have fibro and part of my fibro is that I have a nerve in my right shoulder area that is constantly getting itself pinched. And it's never fun but it's usually survivable. Only yesterday I was doing a BIG streeeeetch and I felt the unexpected pop in my shoulder neck area and it was immediately one of the most painful things in my life. Now that's not the good thing. Here is the good thing.
I've been trying to do the heat and ice thing. Yesterday this happened right before work and my client (I'm an in-home health aid) had a heating pad and frozen green beans and I was able to get away with spending most of my shift laying on his couch alternating between the two. But when I got home, while I have one ice heat pack from you (which I love) and I can make it go from frozen to heat really easy, it takes a bit for it to go from heat to frozen. More time than you really have to spend when nursing a severely pinched nerve.
SO last night I said fuck it and bought a second ice-cold pack from you. One to keep in my freezer, one to keep at room temp except when heated. And yeah, I could just buy frozen peas. But I really like that you offer large and extra-large packs because they always come in handy! Besides, I found one covered in really cute hedgehogs and I'm your exact target market for that pattern. SO YEA!
The only sad bit is I intend to have this pinched nerve released before even the fastest shipping can get the new one to me. However, I'm sure it will come in handy again soon enough. Fibro is like that.
Also, I currently have the miracle that is icy hot, and I'm surviving if not currently thriving.
Anyway, thank you for doing your thing. I've bought a variety of things from you and I have yet to regret any of them!
Oh, I'm so glad we could help! I have had pinched nerves before (and sometimes I literally stress myself out so fucking bad that I pull a muscle in my neck because I never do anything halfway) and they are, categorically, THE WORST. DadHoc and I just went out yesterday to buy more feed corn, and it was a lovely day for a drive out to Gresham to hit up Tractor Supply. We took the van, which is new and shiny, and listened to my Little Fox playlist and sang along, which is what we always do, so you can be assured that your new heating pad is arriving stocked full of Excellent Vibes.
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